Woody Harrelson: Roy Munson
Roy : Hey, I hope you don't mind, I got up a little early, so I took the liberty of milking your cow for you. Yeah, it took a little while to get her warmed up, she sure is a stubborn one. Then, POW, all at once.
[Takes a drink from the bucket]
Mr. Boorg : We don't have a cow. We have a bull.
Roy : I'll brush my teeth.
Roy : WHO YOU CALLIN' A PSYCHO?
[Roy Munson is getting ready for his turn to bowl]
Ernie McCracken : It all comes down to this roll. Roy Munson, a man-child, with a dream to topple bowling giant Ernie McCracken. If he strikes, he's the 1979 Odor-Eaters Champion. He's got one foot in the frying pan and one in the pressure cooker. Believe me, as a bowler, I know that right about now, your bladder feels like an overstuffed vacuum cleaner bag and your butt is kinda like an about-to-explode bratwurst.
Roy : Hey. Do you mind? I wasn't talking when you were bowling.
Ernie McCracken : Was I talking out loud? Was I? Sorry. Good luck.
Ishmael : You really should try to quit, Mr. Munson. They say it's bad for your heart, your lungs. It quickens the aging process.
Roy : Is that right. Who's done more research on the subject than the good people at the American Tobacco Industry? They say it's harmless. Why would they lie? If you're dead, you can't smoke.
Roy : Yeah, sure, Thomas can raise a barn, but can he pick up a 7-10 split?
Ishmael : God blessed my brother to be a good carpenter. It's okay.
Roy : Yeah, well, he blessed you, too, and I'll give you a clue what it is. It's round, it has three holes, and you stick your fingers into it.
Ishmael : [He points his finger into Roy's face] You leave Rebecca out of this, mister!
Roy : I'm talking about bowling! Your future!
Ishmael : [after losing a game] Mr. Munson, you all right?
Roy : [calmly] Ish, uh, what happened in there?
Ishmael : Well, I don't know. Um, I thought I played pretty good. Uh, he's just a little better than me, that's all.
Roy : Pretty good, huh? 186.
[loses his cool]
Roy : You lost to a club player! What - that's not supposed to happen! You're carrying a 270 average!
Ishmael : Wh-wh-wh-what do you expect? I mean, you guys with your 10 frames.
Roy : [angrily] What do you mean, "you guys with your 10 frames"?
Ishmael : Well, my grandpa always taught me to bowl 15 frames. It's like I told you before, we Amish, we do everything half again as hard as you do. Ten frames.
Ishmael : That's for Quakers.
Neighbor : Roy, can you get sick drinkin' piss?
Roy : I think you can.
Neighbor : Even if it's your own?
Ernie McCracken : The Munson.
Roy : Big Ern. Long time.
Ernie McCracken : I'll say. Probably a year for every topping on the table. I heard a horrible rumor...
Ernie McCracken : [looks at Roy's prosthetic rubber hand] Oh, creepy! I'm sorry. You know, for the first couple years, I felt responsible. How you been otherwise?
Roy : You know, in the last 17 years, a day hasn't gone by that I haven't thought about what I'd say to you if I ever ran into you again.
Ernie McCracken : I bet!
Ernie McCracken : [notices Claudia] Hello.
Roy : What about a gross of fluorescent condoms for the the novelty machine in the men's room? I mean, those are fun even when you're alone.
Lancaster Bowl Manager : Yeah.
Roy : You get it?
Lancaster Bowl Manager : [impatiently, trying to read his Asian Brides magazine] Yeah!
Roy : This is like the hula hoop of the nineties. People go nuts!
Lancaster Bowl Manager : No! Look, we don't even have a novelty machine in the men's room anymore.
Roy : And you call this a bowling alley?
Roy : Some of the dresses ya' got, ya' need two hairdos to wear.
Roy : Take that, you freaky piece of shit. You don't mow another guy's lawn.
Ishmael : No way. Uh-huh. There's no way I can bet. It's against my religion. I was raised to *not* be a gambler. There's no way I'm going to bet.
Roy : Hey, hey, Ish. Ish! *Ish*!
Ishmael : No. No! *No* way!
Roy : Hey! Listen, you stupid banana head! You don't have to bet. I'll bet for you.
Ishmael : Oh, that's cool. I mean, what's the worst that can happen?
[Roy agrees by gesturing with his hook and then looks at it awkwardly]
[In the parking lot, Roy has packed his car and is saying farewell to Dad and a few friends]
Roy : Can you believe this? Me, on a professional bowling tour?
Calvert Munson : It's your calling, son. One day, when people say the name Munson, they're gonna think "winner." Just like DiMaggio is to baseball or, or Unitas is to football, that's what Munson will be to bowling.
Roy : The world can really kick your ass. I only have a VAGUE recollection of when it wasn't kickin' mine.
Roy : [to the Bowling Priest] Give us a chance to win our money back.
Ernie McCracken : Are you crazy?
[to the Priest]
Ernie McCracken : Padre, how much are you into us for already?
Bowling Priest : Uh, three-hundred and fifty.
Ernie McCracken : $350. That's a landau roof and power steering down the drain. Could be in your pocket right now. Let's go.
Roy : Double or nothing I can pick up that spare. I think I can do it.
Ernie McCracken : That's the 6-7-10. You'll pick up that spare the same day my hair starts falling out. Come on, let's get outta here.
Roy : I can do this.
Ernie McCracken : For $700? No way. No. No way. For $700.
[grabs the money out of Roy's pocket]
Ernie McCracken : What have you got here? Fifteen-hundred. For $1500. Guys, you want some of the "action", as he calls it.
Bowling Priest : [to the hustlers] Come on, you chickenshits. I'm good for the money, put up my share.
Ernie McCracken : Now, Mr. Bigshot! Mr. "I wear my pants high and I pick up every spare... drunk or sober!"
Beaver Bowl Hustler : Alright, we'll take that bet.
Ernie McCracken : Fine, my friend, my so-called friend. Take your silly little ball and make your silly little spare... Or miss it!